Sports fan. Connoisseur of good music (especially on vinyl). Consumer of the finest craft beers. Environmental activist. History geek. Dudeist Priest. Hunter S. Thompson junkie. And I write a little. Mostly though, I’m a dad. But I am unlike my dad. I am still the breadwinner, but laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, hugging, crying, disciplining and nurturing are also part of my routine. I am a domestic machine…I am, like many dads of my generation, The Domestic Warrior.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Moneyball Imitates Lifeball

As published in The County Times (http://countytimes.somd.com) in May 2014

By Ronald N. Guy Jr.

I am way behind on movies.
The origin of my cinematic delinquency is my daughter’s birth a decade
ago. The arrival of a second demon a
few years later didn’t help. Kids,
fatherhood and movie watching don’t mix – unless they are the Disney
variety. Otherwise there are simply too
many diapers to change, fights to referee and extracurricular activities to
support. But a recent cross-country
flight provided an opportunity to throw on an adult flick (no, not that kind)
and Moneyball was crossed off my short list of films to watch when my
most precious resource – time - allows.

Moneyball is a documentary of sorts on the Oakland
A’s, General Manager Billy Bean (Brad Pitt) and the usage of Sabermetrics
(advanced statistical analysis) to evaluate player performance and determine
best-value acquisitions. Stubborn
adherence to the theory has enabled the A’s – a small market team with a
fraction of the payroll of financial behemoths like the Yankees or Dodgers – to
absorb the loss of several high-priced free agents and remain perennial
contenders. In fact, as of this
writing, the A’s have the most wins in the American League (AL) and are in
first place in AL West.

The magic of Sabermetrics is that it places value on stuff –
skills, attributes and contributions – not immediately apparent or interesting
to the naked eye. It has made
statistics like Wins Above Replacement (WAR) part of baseball lexicon and
forced junkies of the game of consider if a player’s On-Base Percentage (yawn)
is actually more important to team success than homeruns. Sabermetrics is about raw data. There’s no emotional component. Sabermetrics doesn’t over-value Albert
Pujols or Derek Jeter based on name recognition or marketability. It doesn’t know the reputations or salaries
of “Player A” or “Player B.” It doesn’t
care. Advanced statistical analysis is
all about identifying assets that will make a comparative contributions to
victories – period.

But, as Hunter S. Thompson might say, “enough about that”
(baseball, that is). Moneyball
is a movie about Sabermetrics and baseball; it’s just not only about
Sabermetrics and baseball. Simply put,
and “As the Spreadsheet Turns”, sometimes spending the most money on the
sexiest players is a wise move; sometimes it’s fool’s gold. Sometimes the best
players are the fastest, throw the hardest and hit the farthest. Occasionally,
though, such visual superlatives are non-substantive window dressing. They are illusions. Tricks.

Does that sound familiar?
Useful? Does it feel like a
test? Sabermetrics – a theory that
judges on substance and not what immediately romanticizes the flawed human eye
– begs to be applied in our everyday assessment of people, whether they’ve ever
swung a bat or not. There’s no specific
statistic or formula for people-evaluation, per se, but the concept of
Sabermetrics – avoid the distraction of eye-popping traits - translates. Is the best spouse the most attractive or
wealthy? Is the flashiest dresser and
smoothest talker the best choice for a critical professional project? Will the pursuit of the coolest people,
those with beneficial connections, the most Facebook “friends” and Twitter
followers really produce the best friendships?
The answer is maybe – if luck smiles upon thee. But the best value, the optimal person for
“the job” – spouse, friend, business associate, etc. – is more likely the
quiet, unassuming gem lurking below the radar.

In a poignant scene from Moneyball, Bean was in the
Cleveland Indians’ GM’s office negotiating a trade. Surrounded and outnumbered by graybeard executives, Bean
nonetheless noticed that with each offer the GM communicated non-verbally with
an out-of-place young man in the room that looked like an accountant six months
removed from graduation. After
finalizing the deal, the group dispersed, but Bean hunted down the non-descript
stats weenie in cubicle-ville. He knew
“the kid” – not the GM or flashy scouts – was the true star. After a brief discussion on player analysis,
Bean hired the young lad, brought him to Oakland and Sabermetrics was
born. Bean, in a way, used Sabermetrics
in its more powerful form - to judge people - before using it in its more
traditional way - to judge baseball players.